John was a great man, and didn't need to say many words for you to know that he was.  They always say, "Actions speak louder than words" and this was true in his case. 
He was always there for his family and friends and could be counted on if you needed him.
He was there for his kids and their friends, even when they did things that seemed like a "good idea" at the time, but after words may not have been the best idea.
John worked hard and could be counted on and his children followed in his footsteps. 
He will be missed by all and forgotten by none!
My condolences to his family, 
Pat Walden and family

Dad had a way of getting through to us without harsh measures. If we were wrong, he helped us see the error of our ways with slow, measured encouragement. If we were wronged, he always had our backs.

Dad, we are all better for having had you in our lives. Mom always knew how much you loved her and that was important to your kids also. She did not live one boring day with you. Angie, Matt, and I could not have had a better father. Our kids could not have had a better granddad. 

With respect, gratitude and eternal love Dad, rest in peace.


A story that may help sum up who our father was:
Sometime around my 17th year I had missed a few curfews and he was getting a little tired of it. Finally, he told me that if there was a next time I had better find a comfortable spot under one of the trees to spend the night as he was going to lock the doors. Well, on a warm summer night I did again miss my curfew, this time by a longshot. I got home and sure enough the front door was locked. I then went to the back door, same thing. Of course, being my father’s son, I had a plan. A few years before we had placed a large CB/Side Band antenna on the chimney and had left the rope attached. Dad had extended the kitchen and that bump out had a 3/12 pitch roof just below my upstairs bedroom window. All I had to do was pull myself up on the steep 12/12 pitch roof and walk in an arc to the kitchen roof. All went to plan until I made my second step, toes on the roof and heels on the guttering. Who knew that sun, rain and 3 years’ time had such a profound effect on hemp rope? Next, I found myself laying in my mother’s Spiraea bush, shirt torn and back bleeding. He must have heard me on the roof because just after I came to my senses, I saw him in the morning sun. There he was, standing in the kitchen window in his boxer shorts and a cigarette in his mouth. Upon rolling myself out of the ornamental entrapment I heard the back door being unlocked. I went into the house fully expecting to get some unsolicited advice but instead saw no one. I then looked down the hallway to see my parent’s bedroom door closed. I figured that was my exit queue and headed upstairs to bed. 
We did not speak of that incident and I was never late again. I always assumed my folks were lying in bed laughing at my unfortunate learning experience and simply figured nothing need be said. 


After many years in the business Dad finally retired. He loved the shooting sports, golf, fishing, and camping. He enjoyed building and creating, usually using wood. He was a master jig builder, cabinet builder, and enjoyed the challenge of fixing or rebuilding. After all, there was nothing he could not fix. Hence his CB handle, Mr. Fixit. But after some ailments and a major surgery he was unable to pursue his retirement interests at the level he would have liked. But while I think about that and some sadness creeps in, I realize he lived two productive, enjoyable, and gratifying lifetimes in his first 70 years. 

Over the course of his career, and just a small sampling, he spent time in Paris, Rome, Gibraltar, Milan, Seville, the Azores, Toronto, Montreal, London, Berlin, Hong Kong, and 6 months in Madrid. He made many good friends and learned things that most of us will not. He worked harder than any man I ever saw, sometimes too hard. Did things that others were intimidated by. He had guts and raw determination. If you suggested he could not or should not do something or build something, you were either being foolish or had not yet met him.
Dad was patient with his kids, never sharp tongued, slow to judge, had a calming presence, and was somehow keenly aware when something was bothering his kids. He was happiest when his family was around him. He was not big on giving unsolicited advice but did have high expectations of his children. 


He often did not worry much about the gas gauge. He also shared the importance of preparing for hazards that can come with traveling remote desert roads. We always felt safe. We often rode in places in that car that would be frowned upon today. Matt rode in the backseat footwell, I was on the rear seat and Angie on the rear package tray. This worked great for the longest time but during sudden stops Angie flew out of the back window landing on her brothers more than once. Mom nixed that arrangement.
Dad taught Angie, Matt, and I to be prepared, how to think your way out of a problem and to never panic. These were not hard lessons for us as we watched him do these things every day. 
The next chapter for all of us came when Dad chose to leave the road behind and start a business in Garden Plain. Later he also had a business in Pratt. We all worked with him at one time or another, learning things that would not be learned anywhere else. One of his mantras we each heard from the time we were young was that if a job was worth doing it was worth doing right. It was also intimated that it was a time saver to do it right the first time. Its no secret that I wasted some time in the early years.
Now that he was home, Dad finally had a chance to see his children’s sporting events and extracurricular activities. He was proud of our successes but even more proud when we picked ourselves up after failures. 
Next Dad took an executive position in Plano TX. This occurred after Angie, Matt and I were adults and starting our own lives. While at Stewart Systems he streamlined and documented processes, automated control functions, troubleshot the most difficult production and installation issues in North America, Asia, and Europe.  He loved to pass his experience and knowledge on to others in the baking industry and trained and mentored many. These individuals respected and admired him for it. 


Next came a new opportunity as Campbell-Taggart, Rainbo’s corporate parent, offered him a regional position. Because dad would be traveling extensively, our parents decided to move to Garden Plain. Soon we were living in the small town where my grandfather grew up. 
Our earliest years in GP were filled with the normal kid stuff. School, homework, sports, bicycles, and the like. But when summer came, we loaded into Dad’s company car and headed west. We traveled as a family to the locations that required his attention. Pueblo, Denver, Albuquerque, Phoenix, Tucson, Las Vegas, Los Angeles, Anaheim, Fresno, San Francisco, Sacramento, Chico and many more. We experienced never-to-be-forgotten sites and attractions including the Grand Canyon, Hoover Dam, Yosemite, the Malibu Canyon, Disney Land, and Sequoia National Park where we drove through a tree. This was very impressive to a 7-year-old. 
Another fond memory for 4 of the 5 of us was Angel Island in the San Francisco bay. We took a ferry ride to the island for a guided walking tour. Dad had no intention of following others along these narrow paths, instead he chose his own. Not abnormal as this is certainly one way to sum up his personality and life. But because we had taken the route to the top of the island, we had created extreme distance to the boat. After hearing the two horn blasts signaling the departure of the ferry and seeing the last passengers crossing the gangway, from far above he started waving to let the tour guide know we were still on the island. My mother picked a bad day to wear white shorts as we all had to slide several feet down a dirt embankment to expedite our return. 

Our father believed in an education that came from travel. It was important that we see different cultures, experience the beauty each landscape had to offer and generally understand how others lived. He taught us how to check-in to a hotel, how to order a meal in fine restaurants, monitor engine oil levels and tire pressures. He 

Dad started his journey on August 20th, 1941. Two years later his sister Linda was born and two years after her, his brother Jim came into this world. His parents, John E. Smith II and Verna Lee (Hooker) lived in the north end of Wichita so places like Horace Mann, Arkansas Avenue, and North High schools would soon become familiar. There were the normal chores and responsibilities, but time was also dedicated for boating, water skiing, hunting, lake trips, many, many, lake trips my Grandmother used to say. Sometime during Dad’s 9th grade year, he spotted Barbara Jean Ranson going up the school stairs. This was the girl he had his eye on. Then to the friend next to him said “see that girl up there, I’m going to marry her! “. Like most things he set his mind to, that is exactly what happened. 
In 1960 Dad and Mom were married, but not quite as soon as he would have liked as his father asked that they postpone the wedding for a while to be sure this was what they really wanted to do. He then asked his father for a more definitive timeline and my grandfather’s reply was, “when you are 19”. As previously noted, Dad’s birthday is August 20th, their wedding anniversary is August 21st. He knew this girl was the one and he wasn’t going to wait one day longer than necessary. 
Dad had many odd jobs when he was younger, maintaining a neighbor’s huge garden with a hoe (he would be disappointed had I not mentioned that darned hoe) stocking shelves at a grocery store, and working with his dad at times to name a few. However, now that he was married it was time for a career. After a few years, Dad now had 3 children, John, Angie, and Matt. In parallel with having a family he experienced extensive on-the-job training, working nearly every job in the plant at one time or another, and many 80-hour weeks. As a result, he was promoted to Chief Engineer at Rainbo Bakery in Wichita. At this time, we lived on Victoria street near the bakery. 


To John, Christina and John P. 

We miss our good friends and neighbors and are greatly saddened to hear about the loss of your Dad and Granddad.  Our thoughts and prayers are with you and the entire Smith family.

All Our Love,

Chuck and Nicole Pennington

Barb, Matt and families- 
Praying for your dad, Matt. I know your hearts are heavy. 
Our love and thoughts and prayers are with you.
-Doug and Deanna Schulz, Janie Kate, Ellie, Jill, Trent, Grayslake, IL

OBITUARY

John E. Smith III

August 20, 1941 – November 11, 2021

Resthaven Mortuary & Gardens of Memory

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